Chapter 4

Tiffany's follow-up texts came in a flurry, clearly panicked.

"WRONG CHAT! OMG DELETE DELETE!"

"IGNORE LAST MESSAGE! ACCIDENT!"

But the damage was done. Elara stared at the screen, the words burning into her brain.

Julian called a few minutes later, his voice smooth, laced with false concern.

"Elara, darling, how are you feeling? Tiffany mentioned she sent some garbled text. You didn't see anything weird, did you? Autocorrect these days, you know."

His attempt at nonchalance was sickening.

"No, Julian," Elara said, her voice carefully neutral, a shield of ice forming around her heart. "I didn't see anything. Just feeling a bit tired."

"Good. Rest up. I'll be over later." He sounded relieved, or perhaps just convinced of his own cleverness.

She hung up, her hand trembling.

The next afternoon, as Elara was packing a small bag, a sudden resolve hardening within her, there was a sharp knock on her dorm room door. Before she could react, two burly men she didn't recognize pushed their way in.

"Ms. Vance?" one grunted, grabbing her arm.

Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through her numbness. "Who are you? What do you want?"

They didn't answer, just dragged her out, down the stairs, and into a black SUV.

They drove her to a high-end boutique, one of Seraphina's favorites. Tiffany was there, looking flustered. The men pushed Elara towards a display of expensive handbags. Tiffany, with a swift, almost invisible movement, slipped a small, diamond-encrusted clutch into Elara's tote bag.

"Security!" Tiffany suddenly shrieked, pointing at Elara. "She's a thief! I saw her take it!"

Store alarms blared. Managers and security guards converged. Elara felt a wave of despair. This was it, public humiliation, arrest.

Then, Julian strode in, radiating authority and righteous anger.

"What is the meaning of this? Elara? Accused of shoplifting? This is outrageous!" He turned a furious gaze on Tiffany. "You must be mistaken, Tiffany. Elara wouldn't steal a thing."

He then "negotiated" with the store manager, his voice smooth and persuasive. He made a quiet call. Magically, the accusation vanished. Tiffany mumbled an apology about a "misunderstanding." Julian wrapped his arm around Elara, playing the savior. "Don't worry, darling, I've cleared it all up. You're safe with me." He was trying to indebt her further, to make her see him as her protector.

Elara flinched from his touch, a deep, instinctual recoil. His arm felt like a viper.

Later that evening, hidden in the shadows of the hallway outside Julian's apartment where he'd taken her to "recover from the shock," she overheard him arguing with Chad and Bryce.

"Shoplifting? Are you morons trying to get her arrested?" Julian's voice was low, furious. "That wasn't the plan! It was supposed to be subtle, psychological. Not this crude, public spectacle!"

"Hey, Seraphina thought it was a good idea," Chad whined. "And you're getting awfully worked up about it, Thorne. Starting to actually care about the scholarship girl?" Bryce taunted.

Julian went silent, a heavy, charged silence that spoke volumes. Elara's heart pounded. Was it possible? Could he actually be... developing feelings? Or was this just another layer of his twisted game? His anger seemed directed at the method, not the intent of causing her pain.